


I Heard You Keep Their Wings Pressed Under Glass

by kittysock



Series: Unknown Pleasures [1]
Category: Peter Pan (2003)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Underage, Group Sex, M/M, Macro/Micro, Multi, Necrophilia (implied), Orgy, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Unhappy Ending, is it still underage if they're essentially ageless and immortal?, on account of tink is very small
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 19:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14171910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittysock/pseuds/kittysock
Summary: Peter Pan and two of his lost boys sneak onto the Jolly Roger. They're taken prisoner, and then taken on the deck of the ship.





	I Heard You Keep Their Wings Pressed Under Glass

**Author's Note:**

> HEED THE TAGS. 
> 
> This has no redeeming factors, nothing in this fic is aspirational or desirable IRL.  
> There is not a happy ending, although there may be happier sequels. 
> 
> Title from Torch Song by AFI.

“Captain,” Whibbles calls, banging on the door to Hook’s cabin. 

“I told you not to interrupt me,” Hook roars back, his quill nib snapping against the parchment of his ship’s log. 

“Come quickly, captain! We got him! We caught Peter Pan!” Hook drops his quill and bounds to the door. Whibbles leads him through the halls of the second deck, babbling the whole way about how they found them stowed away on the ship, trying to poison the food supply. Once they get to the end of the hallway and into the galley storage, James Hook sees the best sight a man like him could ever see. 

Peter Pan, blight upon his entire existence, is struggling in Black Dagger’s grip around his arms while Cookson holds his legs. As if that wasn’t sweet enough, two more of his little band are being detained by Noodler and Cecco, and Smee has the little fairy held between two fingers. Hook surveys the scene, a perverse delight building up in him. Starkey looks like all his shares of booty had come at once. Maybe they have, James thinks. 

“Take these two to the brig,” Hook says, “separate them. There’s a cage for the fairy in the cargo hold.” Hook snaps, and his crew jumps to obey, carting the boys off the few paces to the brig while Smee positively dances towards the holds. 

“But not Peter, no, we can’t risk him flying off. Dagger, Cookson, you keep hold of him until I decide how we’ll keep him grounded.” Hook perches on a rum barrel. They’ll celebrate tonight- maybe plunder a village next time they make land. As long as they can keep him from flying, Peter will be trapped on the ship for weeks, more than enough time to extract their revenge- and a little more. 

“What did you do with the poison?” Hook asks. Cookson pipes up, “Chucked it out the porthole, Captain! They wasn’t able to get it open, and none of the seals on the food was tampered with.” Hook inclines his head towards Cookson- it’s unusually astute of him, and he assumes Starkey must have helped. 

“Are you going to kill him, Boss?” Starkey asks, a strange gleam in his eye and note to his voice. Starkey was, as Hook recalls, an usher at a secondary school. His tastes, much like Hook’s, were cultivated there. Of course, the biggest difference between them is that Hook prefers a beating heart, while Starkey places no such conditions on his interest.

“Not just yet,” Hook muses, “Pan took my hand from me- I plan to take something from him in return.” Hook traces the gulp Pan swallows down with interest, then allows his eyes to roam down Peter’s slim frame, his elbows held back and legs held apart by Hook’s men. His calves are exposed by the leafy bottoms he’s wearing. His ankles are impossibly delicate. Hook is sure they’d crush easily in Dagger’s hands if he let him try. Starkey meets Hook’s eyes and his grin gets wider, more demented. Starkey will have a chance to play. 

“Of course, Boss,” Starkey demurs, “I completely understand.” Hook smirks back. 

“Foggarty,” Hook snaps. Foggarty is at his side immediately- the whole crew knows what a momentous day this is. Hook leans down and whispers instructions to Foggarty. Once Foggarty has turned to fetch the supplies he asks for, and take the news to the rest of the crew, Hook stalks up to his new pet, captured and trussed up like a Christmas goose. Hook hasn’t had goose in ages, and the appetite he’s slaking today in even longer. 

Peter is predictably defiant, struggling against the two pirates, one of whom is twice his size and then some. Cookson has an iron grip on Pan’s calves, born of many years of working rigging and running a galley on choppy seas. Cookson would break his own wrists before he let Pan go. Hook traces his hook across the swell of Pan’s cheek and savors the disgust and outrage. 

“Let me go!” Pan yells. 

“Now, why would I do that?” Hook questions. “I won’t get to have any fun that way.” Hook leans in close, close enough that he can smell the slight musk of the boy’s skin, and he knows Pan can feel his breath on his shoulder, “And who knows, little bird, you might even enjoy it.” 

“I’ll enjoy killing you when I get away!” Peter exclaims, jerking hard against his captors. Hook laughs, long and loud, until his crew joins in. 

Minutes later, Foggarty returns. 

“I’ve done everything you asked,” Foggarty says, tripping over himself with the objects bundled in his arms.

“Go check with Mullins and make sure the deck is swabbed,” Hook says.

“Yes, sir, just came down to tell you myself,” Mullins says from the base of a staircase. “Look so good you could eat off ‘em.” Mullins assures him. James stretches. 

“Bring him up- slowly,” Hook says, “And don’t forget he can fly.” Black Dagger and Cookson move at once. Hook follows behind them. 

On the top deck, the bright sun beams down on gleaming wood, and half the crew is already assembled in a small circle. Smee has the fairy, flitting in an angry circle around her gilded cage. Hook likes small, himself, but the fairy is better characterized as “tiny,” and that’s not enough to ensnare him. He’ll take a small boy over a tiny woman any day. The green fairy doesn’t intrigue him, leaves him feeling unsatisfied. 

The restrained boys are squirming against their rope bounds. 

“Now, which of Pan’s merry gang of misfits do we have here?” Hook asks, turning to Noodler and Cecco. 

“Tell him your name, boy,” Noodler says, pressing his blade into the meat of the boy’s side. 

“Nibs,” Nibs says finally. He’s a plain looking boy, nice face and the beginnings of some tight musculature. He looks a little older than Peter. 

“And you?” Hook asks the other boy.” 

“Slightly,” he says, “I’m Slightly.” Now, this boy is beautiful, Hook thinks. Far more attractive than Nibs- thin and spry, blonde haired with blue eyes and a mouth so pouty that Hook would have to be dead and blind not to consider it. He looks to be around Peter’s age, but Hook doesn’t consider himself an expert on it, unlike Starkey. Big enough, he supposes. 

But Peter- Peter is the crown jewel. 

“Strip them,” Hook says to the two holding the boys, and the boys blanch and begin to struggle and bleat in renewed earnest. Hook moves to the middle of the circle that’s formed around them, looks at his crew’s delighted expressions and naked want and gestures widely. 

“It’s been too long since you hardworking, honorable pirates have had a chance to relax and unwind,” Hook begins, pitched so that his voice echoes and drowns out the sounds of the boys protesting as their captors gleefully unclothe them. They’re naked, soft and smooth and blushing down to their soft bellies within just a few moments, squirming against their captors to hide their little cocks. They’re mostly hairless, he notes- Nibs has a small patch of dark hair between his legs, but no other body hair to speak of. Slightly has barely anything there at all, sparse light brown hair that makes something primal in Hook snarl. 

“Here is your reward. In just a few minutes you’ll be free to take these two at your leisure, and throw them back in the brig when you’re done. Try to leave them in good enough condition for the next man.” With that, he comes to stand in front of Pan. 

“But first, before I allow you all to do what you will with those two, I’m going to break this little birdie’s wings,” Hook says, unlacing his jodhpurs and tugging his boots off. He’s already fully hard, he realizes. His erection had started to stir as soon as he realized just how he could punish Pan, but now the time is at hand, and he’s rising to the challenge. 

“What are you doing ?” Peter asks, a sweet note of fear in his voice. James doesn’t answer, just works those leafy green breeches off his legs one by one, as Cookson shifts his grip so that Hook can drop them on the deck. Hook pinches one of his exposed nipples as Dagger helps him take Peter’s tiny scrap of a shirt off- they manage it with Peter only lashing out and hitting Dagger once. Dagger squeezes his shoulder until he cries out in pain, and Hook shoots him a warning look. 

Naked, Peter looks even smaller than usual. Hook strokes the baby soft skin of his flank and turns to Starkey. 

“How old d’you reckon he is, Starkey?” Starkey moves forward and inspects him. He’s small, tight everywhere with a layer of softness over his stomach and just the tiniest bit of padding on his ass. Like Slightly, there’s hardly any hair on his body. 

“My guess is twelve,” Starkey says, “Nibs, that one’s probably fourteen, but Slightly and Peter here aren’t quite that developed yet.” Of course, Peter’s age is relative. He’s looked this way for at least twenty years that Hook knows about- it’s a side effect of Neverland. Aging happens slowly, so slowly. Slow enough that you can lose sight of what brought up your grudges in the first place. The last ten years of pursuit have been mostly out of habit, and partially out of this damnable desire right here. 

“Get him on the deck,” Hook commands. Cookson and Dagger lower him to the ground, never letting go for even a moment. They’re well-trained. Dagger sits cross-legged behind him and hooks his huge arms under Peter’s scrawny ones. Cookson gestures to Starkey and Starkey joins in, grabbing Peter’s left leg while Cookson holds the right. Together they wrench his legs apart and James pulls down his breeches.

“Wha- What?” Pan gasps out, trembling in fear, “Why are you doing this? What are you doing?” Hook realizes with a jolt that Pan is more than a virgin- Pan has no concept of fucking. None of the children who wash up on this island do. It’s only those who came to Neverland as adults who understand it. The species native to the island-the animals, the people, none of them reproduce this way. It’s all fairy magic and true love’s blessing and nonsense. 

He’s going to ruin this boy. 

Hook drops to his knees between Peter’s spread thighs and shushes him. Peter knows he doesn’t want Hook to touch him, but that, Hook knows, is something he can work around. Peter doesn’t know this is wrong, doesn’t know how wrong Hook and his crew are for wanting this from him and his friends. He hooks one of the bottles of oil Foggarty brought from the cargo stores and slides it towards him. It’s not cooking oil, but a thick and fragrant oil made on one of the strange islands in the part of the ocean that separates Neverland and the rest of the world. That’s the island where Hook has always seen himself living out his twilight days. The oil slides over his fingers, and he wastes no time in pressing one to Peter’s hole. 

“Don’t touch me!” Peter shrieks out, and Hook sighs and traces the rim of Peter’s hole until it’s nice and slick, Peter writhing his little body the whole time. His chest is heaving, and for a moment James wishes he’d thought to play with the boy’s nipples first. That always gets them so confused, near painful arousal from having part of them played with that they’ve never experienced before. No matter, he’ll have time. There’s muffled moaning behind him and James looks over his shoulder. Cecco is two fingers deep in the blonde boy, and Hook chuckles, catches Cecco’s eye and nods. His men spring to action, swarming around Cecco and Noodler with their captives. A fair number stand back, watching Hook and Pan with interest. 

Hook slides his finger past that tight center. Pan tries to sit up, tries to force him out, and neither his movement nor his will can stop Hook. Peter is burning hot inside, and tight around just one finger. Hook hasn’t had a virgin in decades. Slightly and Nibs’ voices ring out, and Peter begins to pant out his useless protests in a smaller and smaller voice while Hook fingers him. James works his finger until he knows he’s found that secret place that drives men and boys alike wild. 

Peter moans. James takes his fingers out of him and grasps Peter’s cock, works him until that flesh is swelling in his hand and its owner has gone quiet-all but a whimper now and then. Hook goes back to his task, this time sliding two of his fingers inside of the boy, and Peter’s eyes fly open. 

“No, it’s too much, why are you doing this?” Peter asks. Hook leans over the boy and stares down at his shocked face. 

“Because I want to, and like I said, you took my hand. Now I’m taking something from you. Revenge is fair play, Pan.” Hook rocks his fingers in until Peter isn’t making words so much as quiet little sounds that shoot down James’s spine. He curls his fingers and presses hard into that spot, and Peter Pan moans for Captain James Hook of the Jolly Roger. 

“Why does it feel good?” Peter whispers. Hook rolls the cool metal side of his hook over Pan’s shaking thighs. 

“Because, Pan,” Hook says, “This is what boys are made for, in the rest of the world. The Neverlanders, they don’t know this, they don’t have it. Out there, you’d be doing this every night.” James lies. He can almost imagine it- Peter, outside of Neverland, would be just the type to attract the attentions of men like him. 

Hook’s third finger enters Pan with some difficulty, but Peter moans and pushes back on it when his fingers slide true into that clutching heat. Peter’s voice blend so beautifully with the chorus of moans and grunts coming from around them. Hook casts his eyes around. Nibs is face down, being fucked by Whibbles while Cecco is preoccupied by Slightly, who, Hook is pleased to note, is hesitantly sucking Foggarty’s prick. By far the center of the depravity is Smee, who’s sliding the little fairy’s entire naked body along his cock, stopping occasionally to hold her up and pry her little legs open for Mullins’ enthusiastic tongue, like there’s anything there to lick. 

A good captain takes care of his crew. 

Hook turns his attention back to the boy beneath him, and he notices with a start that Cookson and Starkey have let go of Peter’s legs. He’s holding them open without resistance now, thighs spread by Hook’s hips. Hook takes a moment to withdraw his fingers and stroke the boy again, until he’s lax against Dagger’s body. Starkey leaves, heads over to where Slightly is, and Hook slicks his cock up. 

“Say please, Peter,” Hook says, lining up with Peter’s stretched hole. It’s barely open, but he knows it’ll fit. He’s used less prepared holes before without much issue. He rubs the head of his prick against the muscle, and Peter shivers. 

“Please,” Peter says quietly. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, James thinks, but no matter. He pushes the head of his cock inside Pan’s tight hole, and Peter throws his head back and shakes with every inch Hook pushes into him. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” James asks once he’s fully bottomed out. Pan looks conflicted, and he mumbles nonsense words that don’t mean anything at all. Hook rocks into him, propping himself up on his good arm. He strokes his hook over Peter’s face again, and this time Peter turns towards it, blooming beautifully for Hook. 

“Is this what you wanted, sneaking onto my ship like this?” Hook asks. Peter shakes his head, wide-eyed and mouth a gorgeous pink circle. 

“I think it was,” Hook says, barely able to focus for the tight, wet heat around him, “You might not have known, but I think you wanted to get caught, to see what the men of the Jolly Roger were made of. And now,” Hook thrusts hard, switching to propping himself up on his other elbow so that he can stroke Pan’s cock again. It doesn’t take long, just a few more filthy thrusts and long, squeezing pulls on Pan’s cock. With a high, wilting-flower moan, Pan comes, a bare trickle of almost-white slick landing on his stomach, sending shocks of sensation through Hook’s body until he spills inside the boy. 

“Now you know,” Hook says, pulling out. Come drips from Peter’s wrecked hole, gaping open and an angry pink that Hook can never quite get used to. He motions for Dagger to let the boy go, and Dagger drops his arms, his thick cock standing proud beneath his breeches. Hook winces in sympathy for whichever boy is going to end up on the end of that. Probably the older one- Dagger isn’t unnecessarily cruel. 

Peter realizes he’s free and Hook watches as he tries to spring up, but his weak legs and trembling thighs keep him grounded. 

Hook stands, tucks away his cock, and turns towards him. 

“Are you going to fly away, Peter?!” Hook bellows.  
Everyone stops and turns, except Starkey, who pulls Slightly into his lap and keeps going, but watches with rapt attention. 

Peter glares up at him and stands on his wobbly legs. He tries to lift off, but stays firmly on the deck. 

“Tink!” Peter yells, looking around for her. 

Smee laughs delightedly and holds the little fairy out, her body dripping with come, wings drooping down to her sides. Her voice is faint, but she’s crying and shaking her head at Peter, silver tears streaming from her face. 

“Only virgins can use fairy magic, boys,” he says, “And none of you are getting off this ship any time soon.” 

Hook looks to his left and nods to Dagger. Dagger scoops Pan up and throws him over his shoulder. 

“Where should I put him, boss?” Dagger asks. 

“My quarters,” Hook responds. Dagger lopes away, Pan’s little fists beating across his back, and he can’t help the joyous laughter that bursts out from him. Maybe they’ll capture more of those lost boys, but Peter Pan is his, forever.

**Author's Note:**

> For L and the rest of the sock drawer.


End file.
